And yet, the ugliness descending on Pueblo was 200 miles removed from its source, a wild beast of fire devouring south-central Colorado’s South San Juan Mountains that forced humans and wildlife to flee. Destructive doom was forecast for communities such as South Fork, where evacuations were mandatory. Life was inconvenient for us in Pueblo, but it was much worse for people living near the fiery inferno’s heart.

Escaping smoke enshrouded Pueblo in late June 2013, Kathy and I, instead, enjoyed a clear sky and pristine alpine beauty in the high country east of Silverthorne — out of sight, out of mind. Time passed. The South San Juan conflagration eventually was extinguished and became a disconcerting, abstract memory to us.

Fast forward to early October. On the homestretch of an eight day camping/hiking trip, including four days in Utah’s southeastern canyon country, we left Durango on a brisk morning with the intent of camping that evening at the base of our trip’s final hiking destination, a massive northern New Mexico volcanic dome south of Alamosa.

Realizing that we’d have time for a four-hour midday hike before entering New Mexico, I’d studied my maps and discovered 11,892 foot Metroz Mountain north of Wolf Creek Pass is accessed by a dozen twisting miles on Forest Road 430 from its junction with U.S. 160 east of the pass.

According to my topo map, the relatively easy hike to the mountain’s highpoint would provide a perfect break for our travel day to New Mexico. Recalling the area’s healthy forests and rolling tundra ridges from our August 1998 hike up nearby 12,688 foot Table Mountain, I looked forward to returning there.Charred terrain

My, how things had changed. In my planning, I had not put two-plus-two together that we’d be entering the mountain range that had been consumed by the early summer South Fork Fire. Despite a series of erosion control humps, Road 430 remained in good condition, since it had served as a vital artery for transporting crews and equipment to battle the fire.

Parking above 11,000 feet near Hunters Lake Trailhead, we unexpectedly found ourselves in green woodlands after driving through miles of charred terrain. Envision a landscape devastated by a volcanic eruption encircling a large island untouched by fiery fury, a riddle beyond explanation.

Passing beetle-kill groves en route to Hunters Lake, we recognized the contrast between the blackened, surreal beauty of burnt forests and the sheer ugliness of trees decimated by beetle kill. After inhaling the serenity of the lake’s silent, sun-dazzled waters below Table Mountain’s snow powdered cliffs, we retraced our steps, beginning the ascent of Metroz Mountain. Remnants of the fire

Walking on the forest road as it curved around Metroz Mountain’s northwestern flank, we sensed the destructive fire’s legacy. Yet, fire is an integral part of Mother Nature’s ongoing cycle. It clears out underbrush and dead timber, creating space and enriched soil for new seedlings to thrive, the unending rhythm of life on Earth.

Looming above us, like an enormous, gently sloping dome, Metroz Mountain was imprisoned by the endless, bar-like skeletal remains of a once healthy forest. Before beginning our cross-country hike to the summit, I noticed Fisher Mountain, which we had struggled to climb in July. Miraculously, it had remained unblemished by the South Fork fire. Intriguing mountain